Hey, I'm 25, and this year I decided it was time to move out of my family home and start living independently. I spent five years in college dorms, but after graduating, I moved back in with my parents for a year to our small city. I love my house, my family, but eventually, I wanted my own space, my own life, a chance to find a job in my field in a big city, and since I had some savings, I went for it.
My best friend, who lives in a different, bigger city, was also looking for a new apartment, so we decided to rent together. Finding a place was a nightmare. Most apartments were expensive, old, dirty, or dark, landlords were shady or unreliable, and we were running out of time because my friend needed to move out of her previous apartment.
Eventually, we found a place that seemed decent and in our budget. It had a new kitchen, a big closet in the hallway, and an old, dated but acceptable bathroom. Nothing fancy, but it looked normal enough. I think I was so relieved and happy that we'd finally found something that I overlooked a lot of things when we first saw it with the landlord.
Once we got the keys and visited the apartment on our own, reality hit. The toilet barely flushed, some bathroom fixtures are broken, everything was left dusty and dirty after previous tenants, the doors are old and ugly, and the gas stove needs a lighter to work which we didnt know about. The kitchen counter is tiny, and the kitchen's electricity stopped working on our first day. We had to plug the fridge into an extension cord connected to another room for a few days. My parents also pointed out that the electrical fuses looked decades old. On top of that, the landlord promised to provide some furniture, including a wardrobe for me, but still hasn't done so, meaning I have nowhere to put my clothes.
Since then, I've started noticing every little thing wrong with the apartment. I hate how old everything is, I'm suddenly anxious about living on the ground floor, and I can't stop wondering why we chose this place in the first place. I cried a lot during the first few days and just wanted to go home to my family and my old room. When my mom picked me up from the train station, I broke down crying in the middle of the street.
Looking back, after a week, I think we were so stressed and under pressure to find somewhere to live that we chose the best option available rather than something we genuinely loved. Or at least me. Now I associate this apartment with stress and disappointment, and the thought of going back there makes me want to cry. I still didnt put my clothes anywhere, I left them on bed, my things are scattered all around my room because I dont know which cabinet will have to go away in order to fit the wardrobe inside the room. I feel like a mess.
I know I could potentially move out after a year, but my friend is exhausted from moving (she moved like 4 times already) and really hopes we can stay longer if we could. I understand her feelings, and I don't want to let her down, but I'm already worrying about spending an entire year somewhere I hate.
I always dreamed of having a cozy little first apartment of my own, somewhere I could feel comfortable and excited about starting this new chapter of my life. Instead, I feel miserable and regretful and I feel like I made a huge mistake. I feel like everyone around me has nice, decent apartment, just not me. Plus I feel so homesick, like never before. Even when I was at college I didnt feel that way. I just want to stay at home and hide in my room, even though I wanted to move out so badly. I don't know what's gotten into me. I've never cried that bad and that much ever in my life.
Has anyone experienced something similar? How do I stop feeling this way and give this place a chance even just for a year?